Synchronicity
by mak5258
Summary: The last thing she needed was stressed teachers, particularly a stressed Headmaster of Hogwarts, breathing down her neck.


"It's the headmaster, ma'am. He keeps insisting to speak to my supervisor. I tried to explain that that's not how we work, but… well. You know the headmaster."

"Yes." Hermione frowned. She had sixteen project requests to approve/deny, a budget meeting, a meeting with the Head of the Aurory (luckily, that was Harry), she was due before the Wizengamot for one of her personal side-projects in an hour, and she had her own research (currently potions) to attend to. "Are there lives at stake?"

"Not really, ma'am. A few students have put themselves out of phase, it seems. They're fine for now. Just stress for them, and a bit of a nightmare for the teachers keeping track of them."

"Wonderful." The last thing she needed was stressed teachers, particularly a stressed headmaster of Hogwarts, breathing down her neck. "Does he just want somebody to complain to, or is it more serious?"

"He's decided I'm beneath him, I'll tell you that," Braxton said, frowning. The lines of his face were thrown into sharp relief by the green flames of the Floo. "So I couldn't say what he wants to talk about. Could be complaints about me, could be something else."

"Alright, fine." Hermione rubbed her temples, pulling her schedule book close to her and having a look. "Tell him if it's absolutely necessary we meet today, he'll have to come here at eight. If it can wait until tomorrow, I'll be able to Floo over at noon."

"Thank you, ma'am. Shall I Floo you with the response?"

"Owl, please. I'll be out. Thank you, Braxton."

The Floo flashed brilliant green and then went dark. Hermione sat back in her chair, noting the potential meeting times absently in her schedule book.

"Severus bloody Snape," she muttered to herself, shoving the book away from her and gathering her notes for the Wizengamot.

* * *

 _Department of Mysteries, Head of Department—_

 _I wish to impress upon you the urgency of our meeting. I believe your Braxton may have implied that the situation is less than it is._

 _Three fifth-year students have been "shifted out of phase," as your Braxton has taken to describing their condition. There was a duel involved, and the students have yet to be entirely forthcoming with the spells put into practice. (This will be remedied.) Whatever confluence of spells took place, it has rendered three of my students as insubstantial as ghosts; however, the ghosts of the castle as well as diagnostics cast by the school matron, myself, and your Braxton have confirmed that the students are not, in fact, dead or otherwise incorporeal. It is a mystery that would not be so pressing if they had not also become tethered to the first corporeal, for lack of a better term, person on the scene. Namely, myself._

 _No hour would be too late. And I am certain the Ministry would be glad to provide overtime pay for the sake of the poor children._

 _I await your owl—_

 _Severus Snape_

 _Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

* * *

 _Granger:_

 _The headmaster refused both suggested meeting times. He does not wish to leave the school, and he doesn't believe lunch tomorrow is soon enough. I believe he will be sending his own owl._

 _You should also know that the headmaster has suggested the Healers of St. Mungo's become involved, somebody from Spell Damage._

 _Braxton_

* * *

 _Headmaster Snape—_

 _The soonest I will be able to get away is ten o'clock tonight. Will that suffice?_

 _Hermione Granger_

 _Head, Department of Mysteries_

* * *

 _H—_

 _Ten o'clock will do. You may Floo straight to my office._

 _—_ _S_

* * *

Hermione grinned, folding the day's letters and putting them in a pocket. The formality of Severus's first letter had almost made her laugh aloud when she'd read it on a break in court. Due to the nature of their work, Unspeakables didn't advertise their positions. They weren't close-guarded secrets, necessarily, but it also tended not to be common knowledge who held what position within the Department of Mysteries; it was the only Department that wasn't mandated to post their hierarchy for the public. Without an excuse, such as this, to tell him, he might never have known she was an Unspeakable, let alone the head of the department. (Most of her friends assumed the work she did with the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures was her job when it was really just a hobby.)

Braxton's note had made her laugh. She could practically see him writing it, his face pinched. He'd taken the suggestion to involve Healers as a personal slight, of course. He and Severus had probably been butting heads from the beginning.

She'd written Severus back, read the relief between the lines of his response, and the rest of the day had flown by.

Hermione arrived at Hogwarts just after ten. She stepped out of the Floo in the headmaster's office, Vanished the soot from her robes, and smiled at Severus. He sat behind the desk the evening edition of the _Prophet_ limp in his hands.

"Good evening, Headmaster," she said amiably, ignoring the narrowed eyes. She took the seat across the desk from him without being asked.

"You didn't tell me you're an Unspeakable."

"That's kind of how it works."

"What about Magical Creatures?"

"A pet project of mine."

"In all your free time as Head of the department?"

"I've only been Head for the last four years or so, and you'll note that the legislation with my name attached has slowed down a bit in that time."

"Hardly."

"I'm very good at time management, you know."

"Yes, I do."

She smiled at him. He folded his paper and set it aside.

"Now, I suppose, Wea—sorry. Granger."

Hermione shook her head. "It was an amicable divorce, Severus. We both came out the better for it. There was no shouting, no drawn-out fights. The children were old enough to understand what was happening."

"Still, I—"

"Really, Severus. It's alright. We woke up next to each other one morning and realized it was the first time we'd actually laid eyes on each other in weeks. We hadn't even noticed. Actually, we filed the papers and continued to share the house for the next three months. I think Molly was more put-out about it that we were."

"Hm." He nodded but didn't say anything for a moment. Hermione continued to sit in the visitor's chair, legs crossed at the knees, and waited. "You didn't come here to talk about your personal life. Did Braxton send you his notes?"

"No, he didn't."

"Blast! That little—" Severus took a deep breath through his nose, and she smiled. "Did you send him here just to torture me?"

"No. He was on duty when I got your request. I didn't expect him to work so closely with you—I thought maybe it would be Madam Pomfrey or Professor King—or I would have passed it along to somebody else." She tried to look apologetic. Braxton and Severus would never get on. Braxton was used to being the smartest person in the room, didn't like people asking him intelligent questions that made him think before he answered them. Severus was smarter than Braxton, and he wouldn't shy away from asking the questions even if they got on Braxton's nerves.

"Lucky me, then."

She shrugged.

"Where have you got him stashed, then? I'll go get his notes from him."

"He's not staying in the castle. He left at five, and will be back in the morning at nine. 'On the Ministry timetable,' I believe he said."

"He and I will be having words," Hermione promised. "Shall I go track him down, or would you prefer to fill me in?"

* * *

A/N: This is a story that's been sitting in a folder for ages; I come back to it now and again, add bits, take bits off, and then it just continues to sit. Whenever I stumble across it, I wish there was more to it but I can never seem to think where to go from here... And tonight I had an idea.

I have a general idea of where the characters are at and the vague direction I'd like to point them in for this story, but it's been stagnating so long it'd be lovely to have fresh thoughts. Review here, send me a PM, find me on LiveJournal, whatever. What's your thought? What are the preexisting relationships between the usual cast of characters? How long after the war is it? How recent was the divorce? How old are the children? Are they the children we met in the epilogue or an entirely different set? What is going on with these out-of-phase students? _Who_ are these out of phase students? You get the idea. Write me a synopsis. Submit some chapter titles. Whatever. I'd like your input.

Essentially, I have this mad thought that I'm going to tell this story more-or-less by prompt, including as much of your feedback as possible without making it into something entirely absurd.

I leave for the UK and Ireland Monday, and I'll be gone for two weeks (VACATION!). After that, I hope to tackle this thing!

Cheers!

— M

(P.S. The rating is T for now, but we'll see where we take it. The current idea is a Mystery with a touch of Romance.)


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